Making Contact
by LongRider
Summary: What if Patricia Swann had come to Smallville in season 4? (first Patricia/Clark fic)
1. Answering the call

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement or insult is intended. Reviews are always welcome, lawsuits are not.

* * *

Patricia Swann drove the sleek, top of the line car on a deserted road in the dead of night.

The whole time mentally cursing herself for sharing some gossip with her dad she had heard from his secretary, who had believed them to be just one more of many crank callers that the institute had.

The claims that her dad could help with a missing person wasn't exactly original.

Deciding against the last of the battery acid disguised as coffee she had bought at her last rest stop, _her stomach having already made it's displeasure clear,_ she looked to the seat beside her to check that the lead lined container was still sealed.

It supposedly held a rock not found on earth.

Fighting exhaustion, Patricia mused on exactly how she had gotten herself into all of this.

Years ago, her dad, Virgil Swann had found a signal originating from deep space. After years of work he had managed to decrypt it and make sense of it.

_It was a message from another world._

He had devoted his life to his self appointed mission of better living through communication.

_And here was proof of life calling from another galaxy, reaching out to anyone who would hear. Asking that someone take care of their child._

He had heard and had responded the best way he knew how.

He had gathered together powerful people to form a group that could best anticipate what would be coming.

The Traveller.

Patricia had scoffed at the fantasy story her dad was telling, believing it to be some elaborate hoax or some sort of practical joke. But one look from Bridgette, his closest and most trusted confidant, had quickly dispelled the notion, making the words strike home.

_Like a meteor shower._

The meteor shower that had hit the little town of Smallville years ago.

_When the Traveller had arrived._

She had noticed how he seemed to become more animated as he spoke of the traveller.

_Whom he had met face to face two years ago._

It had been the catalyst for so many things.

He had seemed to give up his recluse status and actually started to take an interest in the world around him again.

He accepted guest lecturer invitations from several colleges.

In the last year his physical therapy, _which had increased in frequency, _had been showing signs of improvement in his condition. He could feel her hand when she placed it on his. He could move his fingers and toes ever so slightly, he even joked that he was going to re-learn to tap his fingers to annoy people the moment he regained enough dexterity.

_Dad was excited._

Patricia had been very young at the time, but she remembered how he had been before his accident, always on the move, he had said he did his best thinking that way. Whether it was rock climbing, horse riding, swimming or even hang gliding.

_He couldn't even sit still through a movie for crying out loud!_

His lectures at M.I.T. were legendary for the hell they were on students neck muscles from all his pacing from one side of the stage to the other.

He used to pick her up and put her on his shoulders when they went for long walks so she could see what it was like to be as tall as him.

When Bridgette had told her about the accident, she had been terrified. The thought of her dad not moving was manifestly unfair and just plain _wrong._

So to see him like this was nothing short of miraculous.

_It was like the years had been stripped away._

But something had happened. This Traveller, this child of another world had disappeared. And the couple that had taken him in and raised him as their own weren't doing too well either.

One had been frantically searching for him, desperate for any news from any who had seen even a glimpse of him.

The other was lying in a hospital bed, comatose.

By the time the multiple messages finally reached him, three months had passed.

Patricia didn't know if she believed what her dad had told her. But she did know what she had seen with her own two eyes.

She believed his look of panic was genuine when she mentioned the name Kent.

She believed that whoever this traveller was, he gave her dad hope. And she wouldn't let anything take that away.

She believed him when he said he would go to Smallville himself to help. _He hadn't left New York in years._

So here she was driving in the dead of night, to the town that google maps forgot, with bad coffee and a space rock in her car, fighting exhaustion. All to help her dad help a desperate mother find her son.

_If I ever find this hick town. _

"What I wouldn't give to see something other than rows upon rows of corn, just to liven things up a bit." Patricia said out loud as she stifled a yawn. _Just so long as it wasn't the cast of children of the corn. Close encounters she could handle, the first sign of kids in dungarees and she was turning around and racing home._

A flash of lightning made her veer off the road and into one of the unending cornfields before she hit the brakes.

It wasn't until the car came to a complete stop that she realised she could see something.

"Well, there we go." Grabbing a light, she stepped out to get a better look.

To her surprise she found herself staring at the sight of a man rising to his feet.

_A really naked man._

"Huh."


	2. Crusade

One of the lights in the waiting area was on it's way out.

Patricia could tell by the fact it was making noise on a frequency that few could hear.

All of the magazines available were months out of date and the drinks machine violently refused to serve up anything but scalding hot brown sludge in a plastic cup.

So far the waiting area of Smallvilles only hospital was failing to impress someone who had seen some of the best medical facilities in the country.

_Still, it wasn't all bad. _Patricia's eyes wandered to her hitchhiker again.

The nurse at the duty station had said he couldn't be left on his own and that the doctors were very busy tonight, so she would have to stay to keep an eye on him.

Patricia was currently enjoying the view her new responsibility was providing and hadn't really felt inclined to argue with the nurse's statement.

She hadn't taken her eyes off him since she had sat down. He was currently wondering around the waiting area, wearing nothing but the blanket from the backseat of her car.

Every now and then he'd forget to hold on to the blanket and it would slip revealing a little more of a body that was undoubtedly going to play the starring role in some _naughty_ dreams later. _And that was a crying shame, it really was, he was just so . . . huh._

Patricia knew she was in Smallville for a reason and that it had nothing to do with amnesiac streakers, she would have to go when the doctors arrived. It was just a shame that this was yet another reminder that her love life had been pushed to the wayside while she took care of other matters.

_I really should give him the scrubs to put on the nurse gave me. . . . I . . . really . . . . should._

The blanket slipped again.

"Huh." _ If I didn't know better I'd think he was doing that on purpose._

Her musings were disturbed by a red haired lady.

* * *

_Clark Kent can fly._

Round and round, the same thought travelled through Patricia Swann's head.

_Clark Kent can fly._

Her naked hitchhiker was Clark Kent.

_Clark Kent can fly._

The traveller, the child from another world had been in her company for hours and she hadn't realised it.

_Clark Kent can fly._

He looked completely human. She knew this because she'd seen every inch of him.

_Clark Kent can fly._

After the redhead had hustled him out of the hospital so fast. She had learned from the duty nurse that she was Martha Kent, the mother she had come to this town to help. That she'd found Clark Kent within an hours of entering Smallville.

_Clark Kent can fly._

Just as she'd pulled up to the house on the Kent property she had seen Clark shoot up into the sky like a rocket.

_Clark Kent can fly._

Gripping her steering wheel tightly at this revelation. She watched as Martha got to her feet and ran inside the house.

* * *

Martha Kent was desperately searching under the kitchen sink with one hand while trying to get past someone's secretary via the phone in her other hand.

Patricia had a sneaking suspicion who Martha was trying to get through to and stood just inside the doorway while she waited for Martha to find success with either objective.

It had taken all of a second for her to decide to help the Kents, she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen proof with her own eyes, but Clark Kent was undeniably the traveller.

If she could help, in any way possible, she would.

It had taken slightly longer to convince Martha Kent. But once she had told her about the messages, her father and shown her driver's license. Martha was willing to take the help.

Explanations had been brief and rushed.

Clark was now calling himself Kal-El.

He had been kidnapped and brainwashed by Jor-El.

Jor-El had taken control of Clark. Because Clark didn't want to be some tyrant or conqueror and had rejected Jor-El and refused his ultimatum.

Patricia fought hard to suppress the shudder running up and down her spine at the turn of events.

Martha finally found what she had been searching for. Pulling out a small sealed case from under the sink and placing it on the table, she opened it up, revealing a green rock. It was identical to the rock sitting in Patricia's car.

"This is the way to save him."

* * *

"So let me see if I understand you correctly, we use the green rock on Clark or Kal-El or whoever he's calling himself to subdue him, then we drag him away to try and break through Jor-Els brainwashing." Patricia kept her eyes on Martha, daring her to come up with a worse sounding plan. It was readily evident that Martha Kent was near breaking point with all the stress.

Martha's terse voice was practically monosyllabic. "We're here."

Switching off the engine to the truck. She swiftly grabbed her small container holding the green rock and headed for the entrance to the cave.

Patricia followed with her own container she had collected from her car. Clutching it tightly in her hands to stop them from shaking.

Martha opened her container and Patricia did the same, taking out their green rocks which would be used to bring down Kal-El.

She had already explained how the rocks glowed when they got close to him.

Just as they were about to find decent hiding spots the glowing started.

There in the entrance stood Kal-El.

* * *

Kal-El surveyed the entrance to the caves.

Spotting Martha Kent and the one who had found him when he arrived in this world.

They were typical humans, too inferior to realise Clark Kent was dead.

It mattered little, once he had completed his destiny and united the stones. Clark Kent would not matter. The Kents would not matter. Kal-El would rise and rule this savage land with strength.

Martha Kent raced towards him as soon as her human eyesight was able to perceive him. That other one did the same. _Foolish, did they not know they were in the presence of a fully powered Kryptonian?_

As she drew nearer KaL-El realised something was wrong.

They both had glowing green rocks in their hands.

Unable to stand as his great strength left him, he dropped to his knees like a common soldier.

"Give me back my son!" As Martha Kent raged. Pain beyond description burned through his body, with one last supreme effort Kal-El attempted to remove the source of the pain.

It proved to be a grave miscalculation.

The green rocks turned black as he focussed on trying to burn them away.

In desperation Martha slammed the black rock into his chest.

If the pain of before lacked description, the new pain that followed was beyond imagination.

Feeling as though he had passed through the worst of it, KaL-El finally rose to his feet.

* * *

Blinking away the dazzling colours the sudden burst of light had left in her vision. Patricia could only stare in awe as a bare chested Kal-El glared down at a shirted Clark Kent lying on the ground in front of them.

_The amount of proof regarding the traveller is certainly increasing today._

"You remain a disappointment, Clark Kent" Rising to his feet Clark squared off to face Kal-El.

Before Clark could reply, a fist shot out of the shadows and sent Kal-El three feet deep into the cave wall.

All eyes snapped to . . . _another Clark?_

"The part of Mr Hyde in this little drama has already been cast."

"KAL?" Kal turned to Clark with a shark toothed grin.

"Hi Clark, miss me?"


	3. Crusade part 2

The cave walls trembled under the assault of a ground shaking tremor. Followed by another and another, the unmistakable sound of combat taking place a few feet away from Patricia and Martha.

Looking away from the blurry image of three identical men trading blows with the force of a hurricane, at speeds the human brain could barely make sense of. Patricia turned away and helped a struggling Martha Kent back to her feet.

The smell of burnt flesh from Martha's hand was nauseating in such close proximity and Patricia quickly pushed it out of her mind and compartmentalised it for another time when they weren't in very real danger of being accidentally crushed by one of the cave walls that were starting to crumble under the sheer punishment the three combatants were dishing out.

"What's going on? Did it work?" Martha asked as they half ran, half stumbled to the truck parked near the opening of the cave. Patricia realised from the way the older woman was furiously blinking that her sight still had spots in it from the incredibly bright flash that occurred when her son was split in three.

Before Patricia could answer, a section of the cave wall exploded outwards as chunks of rock came crashing down to the ground near the security fence. A Clark shaped object amongst them bounced several times before coming to a stop.

"GOAL!" Came the excited yell from the caves new opening.

Patricia and Martha watched as the other two Clarks appeared in front of the one by the security fence. _Which one was the real Clark?_

Before her unvoiced question could be answered the Clark who had hit the ground hard rose to his feet.

"Your defeat is inevitable, surrender." Patricia knew immediately that this was Kal-El, the personality that Jor-El had put in Clarks head. He had a strange symbol that looked like a figure of eight inside an outline of a diamond burned into his bare chest.

The other two were a little easier to tell apart, one was topless _no burn mark. _The other was wearing a shirt.

Topless spoke to Kal-El first. "Oh please Pinocchio, do the math, there's two of us and one of you. You're going to get your ass kicked and then me and Clark are going to have a word or two with Jor-El. Right Clark?"

"It is not too late Clark Kent, to accept your destiny." Kal-El's words were directed at the only one wearing a shirt. _That must be Clark. But who is the other one?_

"Thought I was a disappointment? Besides I agree with Kal here, first we take down you, then we take down that thing that calls itself Jor-El." There was a tense moment before Kal-El replied.

"Our father only wants what is best for us." Judging by the snort of derision from Clark and the giggle of amusement from Kal, Neither Patricia or Martha believed Kal-El had made a convincing argument.

"You really were born yesterday! That THING only wants power, it wanted us to 'rule them with strength' and when I said no it tried to control me. When that didn't work it tried to brainwash me and turn me into you." Clark practically hurled the words at Kal-El.

"He is our father." Came Kal-El's reply.

"NO HE DAMN WELL ISN'T! Get this through you thick skull, our dads name is Jonathan Kent, our moms name is Martha Kent. Jor-El and Lara may have been responsible for our birth, but they gave us up when they sent us to earth and we were raised by the best parents anyone could ask for. Whatever that thing in the caves is, it has no claim to us." Anger radiated from Clark and Kal equally, Patricia couldn't help but notice the pride beaming off Martha's face from her sons words.

"We are Krypton's last . . ." Kal-El began, only to be interrupted by a punch that sent him flying even further back than before.

"No good brainwashed little puppet! Clark! You ready to give Jor-El's boy a whuppin?" Kal turned back to Clark.

"Absolutely." Clark answered Kal.

Just as Kal-El hit him with the force of a battering ram.

And with that the fight was on.

* * *

There was no real way to describe the fight for anybody who did not witness it themselves.

The three almost identical men fought with such different styles it was almost easy to tell them apart.

Kal was a brawler, all instinct and passion, he used fists, elbows and anything he could get his hands on to use as a weapon to inflict maximum damage to any exposed area or perceived weakness.

Clark was a novice, he accepted taking hits as though it were a normal, everyday occurrence, he had relied on his abilities all his life and while having no distinct style, he learned fast, quickly picking up what worked and what didn't. Making him both unpredictable and difficult to counter. A few seconds into the fight he was taking fewer and fewer hits.

Kal-El was a fully trained Kryptonian martial artist. All detached, clinical interest, studying his opponents and calculating strengths and weaknesses while delivering devastating blows to both. Every move measured, every strike perfect, every step even and balanced.

Clark and Kal dodged and weaved around Kal-El's strikes as best they could, while at the same time staying close enough to prevent him from using any of his Kryptonian abilities, they'd quickly learned that if Kal-El got any distance away from them, he could use his strength and speed to devastating effect.

As he'd done to break Kal's legs. _Not that it had mattered too much, the bones had healed in seconds and he was back in the fight. _

Patricia still wanted to help somehow. But knew it would be suicide to get within arms reach of them. The three way fight was fought at speeds the human eye could barely perceive, using levels of force that would have undoubtably decimated a human body. So instead she settled for helping Martha Kent, who was still cradling her burnt hand, reach the parked truck.

She could see that Clark and Kal had things well in hand.

* * *

They were working like a team, each chipping away at Kal-El's defences.

While one attacked, the other recovered.

When one of them was knocked aside, the other struck to prevent Kal-El from pressing the advantage.

It was the death of a thousand cuts.

Kryptonians might have been as close to perfect as it got in a yellow sun.

But apply enough force and they felt pain just like everybody else.

Currently Kal-El was feeling more pain than he could have described in his one day old existence. His opponents were forcing him further and further back.

Catching Clark with a strong hit to the side of the head, he felt a brief moment of satisfaction as he dropped to the ground.

"Let me guess, Kryptonian martial arts?" Kal asked.

"Klurkor." Kal-El answered before his world exploded in pain. Looking up from the kneeling position he had dropped to, Kal-El held his injured anatomy as Kal replied.

"Roshambo, picked it up on the schoolyard." Kal swung his foot back to put another kick between Kal-El's legs as Clark staggered to his feet.

"ENOUGH!' Kal-El flew at both Kal and Clark with his arms outstretched. When he made contact his arms gripped their heads and slammed them both into each other.

Too dazed to move from yet another hit to the head, Clark could barely make out the thundering sounds of the body blows Kal was taking above the ringing in his ears.

Out of instinct more than anything else, Clark blindly rushed Kal-El, grabbing him around his torso and then ramming him head first through another section of the cave walls.

It was long enough for Kal to pull himself together and charge into the new hole after them.

The thunderous sounds and the tremors increased, the cave walls, never meant to withstand this kind of punishment, crumbled with the force of the blows, revealing in places the crystal technology hidden within. Any kind of skill had been thrown out and now it was all down to body blows and pain tolerance.

Kal-El's training did him no good now, for every measured move and perfected strike, Jor-El's puppet had no experience to back up his training. His two opponents had no training between them, whereas he was a fighter who had mastered his technique. It was inconceivable to Kal-El that he had picked a fight he could not win.

With one final struggle, Kal-El was beaten. Forced to the ground by Clark and Kal. While Clark kept a tight hold on his arms, Kal had finally gotten him into a choke hold that he couldn't escape from.

As his consciousness faded, so too did his body until he was gone.

* * *

The artificial intelligence known as Jor-El, had witnessed the battle.

Cold hard, logic came as close as it could to calculating surprise, data gathered from the battle showed that the next actions of Clark Kent and the anomalous aberration were emotionally chosen and completely irrational.

It had miscalculated.

Surging with power gathered over the years as it waited for the child to reach maturity, the intelligence worked hard to find an acceptable solution.

If it had been capable of the flight or fight reflex all living beings had it would have given a name to it's findings.

Fear.

Martha and Patricia cautiously watched on from the entrance to the cave. Having witnessed the end of the fight and expecting another to start any moment.

"Jor-El" Called Clark Kent, his wounds slowly healing now that he was out of direct sunlight. "Answer me, I know you can hear me."

"Looks like the big bad machine is giving us the silent treatment. HEY COMPUTER, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY A GAME?" Kal yelled at the cave ceiling.

"You should not be here." Came the disembodied voice.

"Listen Jor-El! And listen carefully, What I said months ago is still true, I won't be who you want me to be, but if you restore Jonathan Kent to full health I'm willing to learn about my heritage. I'm not your pawn, your slave or your ally. If you carry on the way you have been then I have no problem being your enemy." Clark looked to his 'brother' while he waited for a reply, the look in Kal's eyes clear. _What the hell are you doing?_

"I do what I must for the sake of your destiny, my son." Jor-El's voice was devoid of any emotion. Kal snarled in annoyance.

"Check your history, cowards and bullies have used the 'greater good' excuse for centuries. Pick a different answer computer, because your continued existence is tied directly to it." It was Clark's turn to give a questioning look.

"You were resisting your training, training every Kryptonian goes through when they come of age, as tradition dictates." The look of outrage on both their faces was plain for any to witness.

"Are you telling us that you were only following the rules? FOLLOWING ORDERS?" Kal was angry again, Clark interceded before he could build up to a full rant.

"Can you restore my father's health or not?" There was an immediate flash of light and a surge of power could be felt in the cave walls at the answer.

"I am your father." Kal threw his arms up in disgust.

"Jor-El died on Krypton, Krypton was destroyed, Jor-El was destroyed, you are NOT Jor-El! Now answer the question, can you undo the damage you inflicted on Jonathan Kent or not?" Both Clark and Kal waited for an answer with baited breath.

"I have done nothing to Jonathan Kent, his injuries are a result of your actions." Now Clark threw his hands up in outrage.

"There must be more bugs in your programming than windows 98! Answer the question dammit!" Kal practically growled at the surrounding cave.

"Your training is more important than any single human life my son, you must gather the stones . . "

"STOP IT! JUST STOP IT! THE ONLY THING I WANT FROM YOU IS JONATHAN KENT HEALTHY! IF YOU CAN'T DO THAT THEN WE'RE DONE TALKING!" Kal favoured his 'brother' with an approving nod at that outburst.

"You were sent to Earth for a purpose. I am your father, as the last son of Krypton you will obey me." What Martha and Patricia heard next wasn't anger in Clark's voice, it was disappointment.

"Krypton is dead, Jor-El and Lara are dead, you are a ghost, and it's time you stopped haunting me." With that Clarks eyes glowed red before he started blasting away at the cave walls, Kal immediately joined in, a gleeful smile on his face.

All around them the caves were being melted, vaporised or burned, depending on the consistency of the wall in particular, once the crystals underneath were revealed, they too were burned, until there was nothing left.

The artificial intelligence tried to defend itself, but it's attempts were hampered by the fact that several key crystals had already been destroyed from the earlier combat. As it attempted to reroute it's functions the two prong attack continued to diminish it until finally the power core, the crystals used to store all of it's power were struck.

The destruction of the caves was just as impressive as the destruction of the ship that had brought the Kryptonian child to earth.

* * *

"Ow." Patricia muttered as she was gently lifted back to her feet. The sentiment was shared by everybody as they all regained their bearings.

"Honey? Are you okay." Martha directed her question to Kal, who she had noticed was quite literally fading.

"Yeah mom, don't worry, I had a feeling this wouldn't be permanent." He turned his gaze to his 'brother'.

"Have some fun once in a while Clarkie." Clark went to shake his hand but a look of mischief suddenly brightened Kal's face.

"Wait!" Kal shouted, before anyone could stop him, he zipped over to where Patricia was stood, still reeling from everything that had happened.

"C'mere gorgeous." The next thing she knew the one called Kal had spun her around and with strong arms blocking any escape, dipped her backwards.

Patricia barely had a chance to squeak in surprise before warm lips descended onto hers. Feeling like she'd touched a live wire, she moaned as every nerve in her body lit up like a christmas tree.

Arms wrapping around him to stop her falling as much as anything else. Patricia held on for dear life and surrendered to the devastating kiss.

"Kal." Patricia knew she should be . . . _something? _His tongue pushed past her kiss bruised lips with all the subtlety of a battering ram.

"Kal!" Patricia could only gasp, her brain fast approaching overload as the pleasurable tingles did a little dance in her head.

"KAL!" Clark yelled at his rebellious double, with a sigh, Kal righted Patricia and stepped back.

"There's never enough time." Kal winked at Patricia, who dimly realised all eyes were on them as they were the centre of attention. Clarks eyebrows were reaching for his hairline in shocked surprise. Martha's lips were trembling as she fought to keep herself from smiling in amusement. Patricia just stood there, _was she blushing?_ as her brain tried to process yet another event in a day full of them.

"What?" Kal demanded as he made her jump with a slap on her ass. An unmistakable swagger in his stride as he approached his 'brother' who face-palmed in exasperation.

"I can't take you anywhere." Clark complained before grabbing Kal by the arm. Everyone watched as Kal faded into his 'brother' until only Clark remained.

"Let's go home."


	4. Regrouping

Clark looked over the other passengers in the truck as he drove them all back to the farm. His mom was sitting with one hastily bandaged hand on her lap, her other arm resting on the open window frame of the door. A proud little smile on her face.

Sitting between them was Patricia Swann, Doctor Virgil Swann's daughter. Who had come to Smallville to help his mom find him and was now privy to the burden of his secret and everything that entailed. The fingertips of one hand resting against her lips. Lost in her own thoughts. The other hand still clutching the lead lined container she had brought with her. Clark didn't think she was handling what she'd witnessed too well.

He really wished he could talk to her privately. Apologise again for Kal's actions. This wasn't the first time his rebellious nature had run wild. _It was definitely the first time he'd done so independently. _Kal's memories and emotions of the fight, the destruction of the caves and that damn machine, then the kiss, were still clear in his head. _Not to mention being able to remember the whole thing from two distinct perspectives._

But the last thing he wanted to do was have that discussion when anyone else, _especially his mom, _was in hearing distance.

So Clark kept his mouth shut and enjoyed his newly earned freedom from Jor-El and all of his manipulations.

* * *

Patricia didn't know what she had been expecting, but this wasn't it.

She couldn't take her eyes off him.

He was just so normal. He looked and acted completely human.

If not for the fact she had watched as he had been split into three, fought with himself, done things no human being could and then destroyed an alien intelligence disguised as a cave she would still believe her initial assessment.

She couldn't believe he was any kind of threat to humanity.

_Conquerers didn't make you coffee._

He was kind and he was gentle, he seemed to want to learn all he could about his people, but shied away from any topic that involved his biological parents. Which was something of a contradiction.

_Conquerers didn't care so much about the people around them._

They had returned to the Kent farm to talk. Martha Kent had left them alone after playing the message from the hospital telling her Jonathan Kent was finally awake. She could also get her hand checked by a real doctor at the hospital while she was there without Clark hovering around her and feeling guilty for something he hadn't technically done.

She had told him about Veritas, about it's members, about their aim to help him and finally, how it had all fallen apart.

She had also given him her dads most prized possession. Patricia watched Clark as he looked through the journal her dad had recorded his findings into.

"You know my dad thinks the world of you. And after meeting you I can see why." She sat down in the chair opposite him and held her coffee cup in both hands.

"He might change his opinion when I tell him I destroyed Jor-El's A.I." Clark noticed she was fighting not to smile.

"All that knowledge, all the answers to my dads many questions, you can understand why he might be a little put out." She looked directly at Clark and could almost see the weight on his shoulders.

"The price was too high Patricia." The knowledge that Jor-El had tried to brainwash him weighing him down.

"You know I wish you would reconsider coming back with me." She had honestly been surprised when he had refused. It had to be the first time in her adult life when she hadn't convinced someone to listen to her.

"If I run, the other Veritas members will know for certain who to chase." _Of course when he put it like that._

"Then I'll get a place in Smallville. I want to be here for you. To help like my dad has. He believes that you will one day change the world, I'd like to help you do that." She thought that he might argue with her, maybe try to talk her out of it, she was already assembling well laid out arguments for why she should stay in Smallville. Her familiarity with her dads work. Being able to spot former members of Veritas. The importance of protecting him from people who would try to exploit him.

"Are you sure you want to do this? The last person who knew my secret left the state because it became too dangerous for him." Patricia looked into his eyes. The intelligence in those blue depths made her feel like he was seeing inside her soul.

Taking a fortifying breath, she answered. "This is important, I'm sure." Clark took a moment to reply.

"Fair enough." And just like that Patricia Swann's life had taken another unexpected turn.

* * *

Jonathan Kent had once tried to get Clark to explain just what it was like to get the entire Kryptonian language crammed into his head.

Clark hadn't been able to describe the sheer information overload and Jonathan hadn't been able to imagine it.

Until now.

Martha's explanation had been heavily detailed and repeated many times.

But sadly Jonathan hadn't been able to wrap his head around all of the facts. So all of the new information continued to bounce around his head.

It had been just as well she waited until they were in the truck before telling him everything. The doctors wouldn't have released him if they'd been monitoring the sudden increase in his blood pressure.

Taking another calming breath, Jonathan focussed on the most important parts.

His family was safe and whole.

And Jor-El was gone for good.

As they pulled up to the farm that had been in his family for three generations so far, Jonathan Kent spied another vehicle coming down the same route they had just taken.

Getting out of the truck he turned to Martha and asked.

"Any idea who that is behind us." His answer came from the young lady stood by his son on the porch.

"Backup."

* * *

"So let me see if I understand correctly." Virgil Swann paused long enough to take a breath. "You crashed through the wall?" He asked, trying not to laugh at the mental imagery of Clark pulling a looney tune-esque stunt.

Clark just groaned in response. "It was heat of the moment, seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And that's when you and the other one defeated Kal-El and destroyed the caves?" Clark just nodded. Despite everything, it was nice to be able to talk about the lunacy that was his life to someone other than his parents. _Pete had tried, but in the end he couldn't cope with it and had moved away from Smallville._

"Don't forget flipping over the truck." Patricia added.

"The truck was accidental." Clark gave a self deprecating shrug.

"Well, these things happen." Virgil said as he shared a smile with everyone at the table.

"What is that crystal thing Clark?" At Brigette's question, Clark placed the Crystal he'd been holding in the middle of the table for all to see.

When Clark and Kal destroyed the caves, it had been the only thing left. Everything else had vaporised under their combined heat vision.

"Fire." Murmured Virgil when he looked at the symbol._ This is fascinating._

"You can read that?" Clark asked with surprise in his voice. Patricia just leaned in to get a closer look.

"I studied the Kryptonian language for over fifteen years." Virgil answered."Where did you find it?"

"Kal-El took it from a Jet in mid-flight." Clark answered before remembering it was a Luthorcorp jet. _I really hope everyone onboard is okay. And that no-one saw me._

"You flew?" Virgil asked, Clark looked uncertain.

"Kal-El did, so it stands to reason I can too. I'm not sure, I'm also in no hurry to try." Virgil shared a disbelieving look with Bridgette Crosby.

Noticing the look on Virgil's face. Bridgette quickly changed the subject. Virgil was a genius but a little too focussed sometimes.

"Why didn't you destroy it?" She asked, while resisting the urge to touch it. _Even if it is from another planet._

"Believe me, I tried. This thing can survive a double shot of heat vision, I have no idea what could destroy it." Clark looked to everyone around the table, hoping maybe they had an option.

"With your permission Clark, I'd like to take it back to New York with me." Clark took a moment to reply.

"Okay, but make sure not to let anybody touch it." At this Bridgette pulled her hands off the table and back onto her lap. While scrutinising the crystal with her eyes, she asked.

"Is it dangerous?"

"I'm not sure, but it emits a noise that I could hear from hundreds of miles away because someone was touching it. It's powerful." Clark warned them as best he could with the little understanding he had.

* * *

Lana unfastened her seatbelt as soon as the sign switched off.

She fought the urge to scratch her lower back. _Where had that tattoo come from?_

She reached into her carry on bag for a magazine in an attempt to distract herself from the ink that was now a temporary feature on her skin.

_And it was definitely temporary!_ The first chance she got she was seeing an expert tattoo remover.

Lana Lang had taken steps to take control of her life a long time ago. She had spent hours planning out her life in her private moments. _Body art had no place in that plan._

When she had found out about the football players cheating on their tests, she had taken steps to distance herself from them. Because she would not be associated with cheaters. _Whitney had never understood that._

That's when she realised that Whitney wasn't who she thought he was. That's when she began thinking about Clark as more than just the boy who lived next door.

Leaving the team behind had been like starting over. She'd found herself struggling with a new group of friends. _And a dismal turn as the school newspaper editor._

She'd managed to get the Talon up and running again after talking Lex Luthor into helping her with the startup costs. For all his talk of them being partners, she had done most of the work. She'd even seen to it that her former employer The Beanery had been closed down. The Talon had become her sanctuary after Dean had started making regular visits to Nell.

Lana chuckled to herself quietly. People often said you should look to your elders as examples to follow. But Lana had sworn long ago to never turn out like her aunt.

When Nell had met Dean after the tornado damage, Lana had known he would never stay in Smallville. And he was the first man Nell had been interested in since Jonathan Kent had broken up with her. Nell had spent years trying to rekindle things with Mr Kent, even after he had gotten married. So Lana knew Nell wouldn't stay if Dean left.

So she'd taken steps to make sure her life in Smallville continued uninterrupted. She'd spent hours in front of that computer screen, waiting in the Torch for Clark, Chloe or Pete to supposedly catch her reading up on child emancipation laws and then offer to help. Moving in with Chloe and Mr Sullivan had been a stop gap measure until she was old enough to find her own place.

Lana had a vision of how her life would turn out. She would have the picture perfect life. She would have a good job. She would have a loving family and a husband who shared everything with her. They would confide in each other, they would never keep secrets from each other and they would be perfect. _And nothing would interfere with that._

When Whitney had left to become a soldier, she had no choice but to break up with him. It was obvious that he didn't want what she wanted.

She'd already started moving towards Clark. Trying to get him to see how great they could be together. _But he wouldn't open up._ Clark Kent had problems._ Which he could talk to her about._ Clark Kent had secrets._ Which he could confide in her._ Clark Kent was in love with her, she was certain of it. _But something always held him back._

Lana sighed as she flipped through a few pages of the magazine, hoping something would catch her eye. It always irritated her that Clark wouldn't share with her. She knew all about painful pasts, she'd had her life changed before her eyes when one of the meteors had killed her parents. _What could be worse than that? _

Not that Clark had told her. She'd even seen fit to give him another chance. All he'd had to do was tell her everything and she wouldn't have left for Paris. He could have given her the truth and then there would be nothing to hold him back.

And everything would have fallen in to place. The two of them together, they could be perfect. _Just like she'd planned it. _

But he'd refused. _He'd even broken his word when he said he'd give her a ride to the airport. _

So she'd gone to Paris.

Where she'd quite literally bumped into Jason. And spent almost every moment of three months together since.

And now here she was coming back. Leaving Jason and their three month fling in Paris behind.

She'd left a note. Jason would understand.

Lana was heading back to Smallville to get her answers. Because the tattoo looked too much like one of the drawings in the caves.

_And if Clark Kent had finally come to his senses about just how great they could be together and apologised, then that was just a bonus._

* * *

"I thought he'd be taller." Bridgette Crosby remarked as she stopped beside Jonathan Kent. Watching as Patricia disappeared inside the barn, where Clark was. _She likes him._ They had taken a break when she noticed Virgil was getting tired. _For all his strength of will, the man still couldn't handle jet lag._

"What makes you say that?" Jonathan asked, doing his best not to wince at the ache in his chest_._

"Just the things Virgil and I have learned over the years. Prophecies of a traveller from a distant world, coming to earth as either a conquerer or saviour." Bridgette turned in time to catch Jonathan rubbing his chest before he quickly dropped his hand.

"Sounds like a science fiction movie." Jonathan remarked out of reflex more than anything else. It was an old habit that had been too ingrained to stop now. A defence mechanism he'd developed over the years to dismiss anything weird or unusual in conversation in the vicinity of Clark.

Bridgette let his answer slide without comment. "I'm glad you and Martha were the ones who found him in the end. Considering Veritas had appointed themselves his guardians. I have to admit that not one of us would win a prize for our parenting skills." Bridgette voiced a doubt that had been plaguing her for years.

"I don't know, your daughter turned out okay." Bridgette spun to face Jonathan at that comment. Quick to deny it.

"Patricia isn't mine." Jonathan's expression didn't change, nor did his opinion.

"Could have fooled me. You may not be related by blood, but I've learned family is about more than that. I've only known you all for the few hours you've been here, but trust me, that young lady sees you as part of her family." Bridgette could feel the pride at that thought swelling in her chest. _No doubt about it. The Kents are good people._

"I tried to help where I could after her mother left. But she's always been the most capable girl I've ever met." Bridgette smiled fondly at a memory of finding a five year old Patricia trying to drag a chair into the Swann family kitchen so that she could reach everything.

"Promise me you'll take it easy now that you're out of hospital?" An indignant look passed over Jonathan's face. _Virgil wasn't the only one who didn't like being told what he couldn't do._ Before he could reply she continued.

"For your families sake please, slow down a little, share the load more." The indignant look turned into a contemplative little frown.

"You've done this before haven't you." Jonathan looked her straight in the eye.

"Lets just say I have experience with men who don't like limitations. I watched as Virgil pushed himself over and over. Always doing everything himself, running his company, trying to be everything for his daughter after his marriage failed. After his accident he nearly lost everything until he finally learned to accept help from others." The look they shared was one of understanding.

Jonathan sighed quietly, then gave the slightest of head nods.

Bridgette accepted this as his answer knowing better than to ask for more than that from him.

* * *

"You know, you're not at all what I expected." Martha remarked as she finished off her coffee.

Virgil smiled at his hosts comment. "I could say the same about you. You don't seem like the archetypal farmers wife."

"Thank you, you don't seem like the typical billionaire recluse." Martha smiled as Virgil's eyebrows rose at her comment.

"Not all of us are prone to obsessive compulsive behaviour like Howard Hughes." At Martha's disbelieving eyebrow raise, Virgil knew he hadn't convinced her.

"Don't believe me?" His answer came in the form of a slow head shake.

"You've been looking for my son for nearly twenty years." Virgil knew he couldn't refute that.

"True, but I was extremely motivated and I didn't think he'd blend in so easily." Martha nodded in acknowledgement.

"Not everybody belongs in the world they were born into. I may have been born in Metropolis, I may have been brought up in that world. But I didn't find my home until I came to Smallville." Virgil flexed his jaw at this, as though he were chewing the new information. It was fascinating to Martha just how animated a man of his stillness could be.

"Do you suppose Clark feels the same way as you did?" Martha could see the calculated look in his eye, could see that the question was out of honest concern for her son, not an attempt at insult.

"Why do you ask?" Martha gave voice to her only thought in that moment.

"As far as we know, he is the last of his kind. The sole survivor of an all but extinct race. That knowledge has to weigh heavily on his mind." Virgil waited as she took a few seconds to mull over his words before replying, proving that she may have left the world of corporate sharks and legal minded mazes, but her skilled analytical mind hadn't lost any of its razor sharpness. _Metropolis had suffered a serious loss when Martha had left._

For a brief moment all the years of worrying about Clark showed in Martha's eyes. "To tell the truth I did wonder that for a while, we'd kept Clark sheltered for so long, he wasn't allowed to do any of the normal things a child growing up could. We were always worried someone would discover his abilities and try to take him to a lab somewhere. As he got older his control improved and he started to feel more comfortable with his abilities. To the point now I think he enjoys having them." The relief of the knowledge that her son no longer struggled with himself was evident now for any to see.

"I did notice him smiling just before he assembled that ramp for my wheelchair." Virgil gave a soft chuckle.

"You should see him when he lifts up the tractor." Virgil could only imagine what that must be like, the liberating feeling of being able to do something that all laws of nature said you couldn't.

"Is he coping with destroying Jor-El?" Martha smiled at the thought of her son free from that monster.

"Yes, you can tell a weight has been lifted. When he was younger he always wondered about where he came from, why he was sent away, not having the answers ate at him. Now he has his answers and even if they were painful, he can go forward."

* * *

She remembered flying.

She'd been on a plane flying back to Metropolis.

The cabin had shuddered as though a giant hand had grabbed it and shook it. She'd heard the shriek of tearing metal, something breaking, followed by something exploding.

Then she remembered spinning, tumbling, falling in the uncontrolled aircraft.

She remembered grabbing a parachute and the blinding terror of falling into the open air before managing to put it on.

And still, the spinning continued.

The whole time she had been aware of a simple fact. _I'm going to die._

Falling uncontrolled, hurtling to the ocean below, dimly aware that her survival hinged on straps, clasps and stitching.

She couldn't stop herself from giggling at the absurdity of it all.

She'd barely securely fastened herself in when she deployed the chute. Only to realise that her fall was too fast and the distance too short.

The pain was overwhelming, so it was a wonderful relief when her body decided _that's enough._

She would wake up later remembering only the barest facts.

"You've been unconscious for a while." darting her head to the side, she saw . . . _a viking?_

As her eyes took in her new surroundings, she couldn't help but notice the hand carved tools, the small cooking fire burning with an animal on a crudely made spit over it. The palette she was lying on was made out of leaves and the owner of the voice was a tall man in threadbare clothes that were in dire need of cleaning, _come to think of it, he was in dire need of cleaning,_ she was in a cave with a man who obviously hadn't employed grooming habits in years.

"Who are you?" She could just about tell that he was now smiling, his long beard twitched with the change in his facial expression as he pushed his long hair out of his face. _He needed a shave and a haircut in the worst way._

"Oliver Queen. And you are?"

"Gina."

"Well, Gina, if this is a rescue, you're late."


End file.
